


Through All The Years

by alacarton



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-04-13 12:39:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14112537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alacarton/pseuds/alacarton
Summary: A selection of Mass Effect drabbles. Fairly fShenko centric.





	1. Chapter 1

and now i will never be the same again

 

Kaidan knows anger; like an old foe, surging through his veins, whispering in his ear as he hears a roar of fury, of pain.

The voice isn’t his, _can’t_ be his, but it is, and blame is tumbling from his lips before he can regain control.

He knows fear too, sees the flash of it in the other man’s eyes, hears it as he sobs an apology.

He is ashamed of himself later, once the blinding anger has passed and he is alone.

He doesn’t need Garrus to tell him he was out of line, nor Liara.

It is days before he can apologise to Jeff.

 

The media vultures swarm at every twist and turn, and it is all he can do not to snap their necks, to _snap_.

Questions, cameras, eyes, even in the hallways of the medical centre as their crew slowly recovers.

He has no answers to the questions they ask, only prays that the answer to his is found.

Waiting for her to walk through the door and end his nightmare.

His hope lasts a week, waiting for that moment.

It never comes.

 

A dingy apartment in the Wards is all he can bring himself to find, the four walls a prison as much as a shelter.

He scrubs for hours under the hot water of his shower, but still the guilt sticks to him like glue.

His back meets the cold of the tiled wall, reality an unpleasant truth to be reminded of;

Kaidan wonders why nobody ever told him grief felt so much like fear.

As tears mix with the water, unbridled sobs wracking him,

He begs for a forgiveness he never finds.

 

Shephard’s face finds him in dreams and he wakes screaming most nights, sheets soaked and heart pounding.

He keeps the outside world at bay, venturing out for little more than another bottle of whisky to drown in.

His inbox goes unanswered, his mother’s pleading words a desperate message he ignores.

_Come home, Kaidan. Let us help you. Come home to Vancouver. Please._

How can he tell her he could not face the shame of his failure?

He can’t return home broken hearted once more.

 

They’re promoting him. _Commander_. For bravery and loyalty to the Alliance. What else does he have to cling to?

A new bar on his epaulettes, a new ship, a new crew. It has been weeks now, but the wound refuses to knit.

Shephard’s words on taking command of the Normandy return to him, leave him feeling nauseous;

 _I don’t want it. Not like this._ Not without her. It feels unnatural, almost treason.

But she is gone, lost forever more, and the universe spins on.

And he will never be the same.

 

 

 

notes: especially for @savingCapricious; thanks for the angst, ily.

from the Wonder Woman prompt list which can be found here [x](https://cullywullycurlywurly.tumblr.com/post/166966366047/themyskiran-wonder-woman-2017-sentence-meme)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spoilers for the extended cut dlc for mass effect 3.

**prompt: you can save the world**

  
She was unsure what hour it was when the first cries reached her ears and pulled her from a light sleep, but by the darkness beyond the window, Catriona guessed the wee hours. Momentary, tired confusion shattered as she moved to gather the squawking infant in her arms from his side car, writhing against the soft blankets that had swaddled him so snugly.

  
“Hush now, my darling, you don’t need to cry.”

  
The baby’s wailing fell silent as he began to nurse with practiced ease, a fat hand curling against her skin as he calmed, and even in tiredness, Catriona took the chance to marvel at him, to admire him as she always did; the sweet, milky scent of newborn, the dark ebony hair, long sweeping lashes and neat ears that she now knew so well.

  
But then, she seemed to have known it all even before his arrival. Even before the newly restored EDI had given a run down of her scan findings, her thumb tracing the image of the tiny being who’s heartbeat filled the room; made in love and representing such enormous hope and reward.

  
_Strong cardiac activity, a healthy foetus growing well. XY chromosomes. A significant number of biological markers identical to one Major K. Alenko. 4.2 inches long, 90 grams in weight. Approximately 15 weeks and 1 day._

  
The skyline of city lights laid beyond the glass before her in the still of night; what was the point of a penthouse apartment if you didn’t have a large enough window to admire the view, Kaidan had joked as they had built their home. Vancouver was rebuilding quickly, the skies already full of shuttle traffic and an endless buzz of activity. It was comforting, the reminder of life outside of her nest slowly regaining traction after the horror it had met. Not that she could claim to have engaged in it recently - her time had been otherwise rather occupied.

  
Now four days old, and he was still just the baby. She would insist it was a difficult last name that held up their choice, much to her husband’s disgruntled pout. The months of pregnancy had seemed to last forever, endless time to decide but now, the clock ticked; his grandmother was travelling that morning to meet him, he would need to be registered with the city and damned if she was sent another message asking for a name to put upon his gift. Even Kaidan had gently chivvied her into putting some serious thought towards a decision.

  
_Her_ Kaidan. Patient, unfailing, gentle Kaidan who had held her hand so often and not once uttered a word of complaint, even as she had cursed him to hell and back with each contraction of her labour. Quiet, protective, loving Kaidan who had whispered affirmations in answer to her every anxious thought, who had made vows to love her eternally so easily as the cool metal of her wedding ring had met her finger, who had wept so fiercely as she had handed the baby to him for the first time. He snored gently into the pillow beside her, head turned from her, and in the light from the window, she could make out the same neat ears and soft, dark hair she had been admiring on her son. _Their_ son.

The baby in question had quietly finished nursing, contented by a full belly and his mother’s arms, and endless dark brown eyes met hers in a gaze that seemed to still time. She had always been told infants were born with blue eyes, but here he was, with the same deep brown eyes that had first won her heart so many years before. In the haze of memory from labour she could see him lifted onto her chest, seconds new and with the sweetest of cries, and his eyes had found hers instantly, her very soul snapping into life with sudden realisation that she had no idea she had been missing. _Oh. There you are. How could I ever not have known you?_

  
The babe blinked, before his tiny features screwed into a yawn and as she adjusted her nightgown, Catriona brought him to her to kiss, thumbing the downy skin of his cheeks. The responsibility still overwhelmed her. Hell, give her an invasion of ancient sentient machines any day, but this was on an entirely different level. A gun, she could handle with every inch of familiarity and confidence. But a baby? A baby was something different entirely. Something fragile, something delicate. Life, in its simplest form. She was far more used to death, and the destruction and pain of it, of the grief of loss.

  
Her heart hurt when she wandered into the memories of that loss, of those that would miss this, that would be unable to share their elated joy. In all of it, one figure stood out, a gaping hole in her world and a pain that never seemed to settle. She could see him at the edge of her mind’s eye, could still hear his confident belief in her at every turn, the gentle smile that said ‘you can do this’. Their final conversation pulled itself often to the front of her thoughts more recently, and in every quiet moment of doubt, there he was. Oh how she wished he was still there to be the voice of sanity she had relied upon so often.

  
_What about you? Ever think about settling down?_

_  
Yeah… I like the sound of that. Not sure I’d be much good at it though._

_  
Sure you would._

_  
I’m a soldier, Anderson, like you. Not really fit for doing anything else._

  
Movement next to her broke her spell, and as strong arms found her waist, Catriona realised she was crying, hot tears tracking down her cheeks. She leant her back into the muscle and warmth of her now awake husband, his face burying into the crook of her neck and his gruff, sleep filled voice reverberated against her skin, laced with concern.

“What’s the matter, love?”

  
He could read her so easily; had she been crying enough to waken him? Catriona wiped quickly at the dampness on her cheeks with her free hand, clearing her throat as best she could. “I was just… thinking about his name. Or lack of it, I guess.”

  
The tension in his shoulders seemed to drop with her admission as a tender hand reached down to trace the baby’s features. “We’ll find something, don’t worry. Boy can’t live without a name forever.”

  
“No, I…I think I know what it should be.”

  
“Oh.” Kaidan’s face lifted, his hand tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear, before resting his chin on her shoulder. “Well, hit me.”

  
Catriona drew a breath, steadying herself, before glancing to him. “James for the middle… for your dad, like we discussed.”

  
His reply with a gentle chuckle, warmth in his eyes. “You’ll make my mother cry with that one.”

  
They felt silent again, Kaidan’s waiting gaze upon her once more, but Catriona found she couldn’t say it, couldn’t bring herself to give it voice. That meant he was really gone; meant finality. Her mouth was like cotton, thick and heavy, barely able to force the name from her lips and as she finally whispered it, her voice cracked.

  
_I don’t know Shepard. I think you’d make a great mother_.

  
“David. I want to call him David.”

  
She felt the breath in him hitch instantly, the meaning of her suggestion sweeping over him first as a grimace of pain, before his brows knitted together in silent, sad contemplation and she turned enough to look at him almost desperately, eyes filling and throat catching once more. “He was like a father to me, I guess… he cared… for me, for you… he believed… he would’ve been so proud… he would’ve _loved_ …” She could speak no more, composure shattering and descended quickly into heaving sobs, fat tears slipping down her cheeks as she clutched the babe to her. _He would have loved to have been here to see this, to be a part of this._

  
Kaidan turned her in his arms so easily and she wept against him, face pressed against the tickle of chest hair as a hand traced circles on her back. Heaving sobs left her, chest burning with each breath - how it hurt, raw grief she thought had lost it’s sting. Her husband was silent other than soft murmurs of comfort for what seemed to be forever, and when he finally spoke the tremble in his own voice was answer enough.

  
“Yeah, that’s…that’s a good choice...” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, the baby now settled in her arms, staring up at them. "David James Alenko. Now there’s a name.”

  
_I’m proud of you. You did good, child. You did good._

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Especially for Shenko Smut Thursday and for my dear Capri. 
> 
> Entirely NSFW, rated M. Christmas in April, why not!

“How the hell is there a piece left over?! I don’t get it! There’s not even a mention of it in the instructions…” The irritated muttering of her husband drew Shepard’s attention from her wrapping duties, putting aside the bright coloured paper to glance across the room. Kaidan was sat crossed legged by the tree, dressed in plaid Christmas pyjamas with a Santa hat to match, with the object of his frustration, an almost complete model of the Normandy, in his hand. “It’s not even powering on! I mean, how is a three year old meant to work one of these if I can’t…”

“Are you struggling?” The amusement in her voice was evident, earning her a glare from the man, before shrugging as she turned back to her task. “Use biotics? That’s usually your answer.”

Kaidan sneered, before huffing as he tossed the model to the floor, crossing the room to slouch on the sofa near her, muttering to nobody in particular. “I’ll _ biotically _ put it through the wall in a minute.”

“Don’t let Joker hear that. You’ll ruin his Christmas spirit. He was so pleased they brought a flying model out.” Shepard finished the last fold of the paper, before standing to stretch. The plate of food set out caught her attention; a mince pie for the big man himself, along with cookies for his pilot (peppermint snickerdoodles was the favourite of  _ all  _ pilots, according to one very persuasive uncle) and a large glass of milk. They had spent the day decorating the rest of the apartment before visiting the huge Christmas tree occupying the city centre, watching as the baubles changed every five minutes to bright new colours. She had managed to get  _ some _ food preparation done as Kaidan had taken the boy out into the snow to play, but inevitably there remained little time for anything else. It had ended with a movie, bundled together on the sofa, before setting out the food and then enough Christmas bedtime stories to last for the next five years. Trying to convince an excitable three year old to sleep on Christmas Eve, it transpired, was no easy task. 

Thus it was well after eleven before he had finally fallen asleep, and their secretive work could begin, silently wrapping presents and building toys; everything and anything to preserve the magic she remembered as a little girl and seemed to turn her husband into an overgrown child once more. To give him due credit, Kaidan had built the entirety of the sprawling spaceport in record time as she had wrapped parcels and stuffed stockings, a variety of toy spaceships flying circuits around the tree, and other than the offending model Normandy, all that remained was to take a believable bite out of the mince pie. It may have been the easiest part of it all, but for all her attempts, it did not escape Kaidan’s notice, the indignation in his eyes evident. 

“Hey, hey, c’mere you.” Shepard licked her fingers with a giggle as her husband’s hand reached out to catch her, pulling her down on top of him with ease. “I thought  _ I  _ was getting the mince pie…” The pout on his face was almost comical. “See the hat?  _ Santa.  _ Santa gets the mince pie.”

“Mhm.” Her hand traced his hairline beneath the red fabric, fingers running through the soft, dark strands. “At the rate you’re going grey, _ Santa _ will soon be believable.”

“Hilarious, really.” His mocking laugh morphed into a smirk as she settled a leg either side of his hips, his hands settling at her waist and eyebrow cocking. “That’s my punishment for getting married, I suppose.”

“Is that so?” The soft appreciate hum from him as she ran her fingers across his forehead made her chuckle, and she leant down to press a gentle kiss to his lips, his lips turning in a smile. “Not the stresses and strains of fatherhood?” 

“It has its moments, but let’s be fair on the kid; it’s mostly your fault.” 

“Well, I do apologise...” A thumb and finger caught her chin, pulling her back to him for a deep, slow kiss, and she pulled away only to press several kisses along his jaw, enjoying the catch of his breath as she nipped at his neck. “Let me make up for all that  _ stress  _ after such  _ hard work _ ...”

Kaidan stiffened beneath her, his eyes cast to the darkened hallway beyond the living room. “Are you sure he’s asleep?”

“Certain. Besides…” She nodded to the pile of unwrapped gifts, before prodding the hat still upon his head. “We have bigger issues if he decides to wake up,  _ Santa _ . So why don’t you just relax, huh?”

“Point taken.”

Shepard pressed him back into the comfort of the sofa once more, sliding her way down his body, hands following the edges of him. Lifting his shirt enough to plant light kisses along the dip of his abdomen, she followed the line of soft, dark hair along his belly as an easy guide to her target, pausing above the waistband of his shorts. Dark eyes met hers, silently begging for her to continue, and he pressed his quickly hardening arousal to the hand that rested on the soft fabric. The change in expression as her hand reached beneath his shorts to curl around him, the soft sigh as she stroked him making her grin, and she could not help but toy with him.

“Are you  _ sure  _ you’ve not been naughty this year?”

“No, but I’m considering it now.” The cock of an eyebrow met her gaze, tongue darting at his lips, and his reply was gruff, making her chuckle. “You’re a damned tease.”

“Such accusations.” In truth, she had no plans to make him wait. As proof, she easily pulled his shorts aside, lips rising in a smirk at the deep groan from him as they met the sensitive head of his cock, her hand stroking the base of him. Her tongue curled around his tip, teasing him, before taking the length of him into the warmth of her mouth, Kaidan pressing himself to her with another groan.

She worked for a moment before glancing up to catch his eye, a move she knew from experience he enjoyed, and dark eyes filled with lust met hers. His gaze barely left her, lips parted and breathless as he watched her tongue trail across him, his eyes rolling as she drew him in once more. He was so responsive to her; hell, he _always_ was, it was part of what made being with him so damn _good_. Even now, several years and countless times together, Kaidan continued to be both as eager as he always had been, and as unabashedly passionate. She had never had to complain of a lack of effort, and the man approached intimacy with the same barefaced honesty he seemed to do all things.

Watching him slowly come undone by her hand, mixed with the groans of pleasure that slipped from him, only served to spur her on. Had she been in a more mischievous mood, Shepard would have teased him more, prolonged his torment, but watching him quickly coming apart, the static crackle as he arched his back, the glow of arousal on his face, was more fun. As it was, it took only minutes for the involuntary jerk of his hips with each bob of her head, and the familiar blue haze in Kaidan’s eyes as they met hers, to tell her her fun was over, and with a smirk, Shepard closed her mouth around him once more.

“ _ Shit _ …” His hands both curled amongst the back of her hair, muscles clenching as control slipped from his grasp and the strangled noise that left him was downright  _ filthy _ . His hips stuttered as he finished with her lips around him, head falling back and a deep, instinctive groan at the back of his throat. Shepard stroked him to completion with practiced ease for a few moments, before her tongue darted at her lips to remove any evidence of her work, letting go of him and sitting up with a rather satisfied smirk.

“Since it’s now after midnight, that counts as your first gift opened.” 

Her husband cracked one eye open, and the disbelieving shake of his head made her laugh, his chest still heaving as he recovered, breathlessly managing a reply. “What did I do to deserve that?”

Shepard laughed again, easily pulling his short back into place, before a hand reached up to pull her back down to him wordlessly, and she snuggled into him, the pounding of his calming heart beneath her ear as she lay her head against him. “Well, it  _ is _ Christmas.”

A huff of laughter from him was her reply, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, arm curling around her to hold her to him tightly. “I guess I’ll have to make it up to you tonight then.”

They lay in the still darkness, twinkling lights of the tree reflecting throughout the room, basking in the peaceful moment. The lights of the city lay beyond the endless glass wall, every window nearby covered in coloured holidays lights and snow was beginning to fall. It’d be morning in barely a few hours, the excited squeals of their son as he laid eyes on the mountain of presents would fill their home, and the day would be a blur of guests, food and laughter. The thought of it all made a bubble of excitement swell within her; she  _ loved _ the holidays. For now though, she was content to simply enjoy Kaidan to herself, to embrace a rare moment of quiet together that parenthood and work seemed content to deprive them of so often. 

Her husband’s deep voice at her ear pulled her from her thoughts. “I guess as you have reliably informed me it is after midnight, I can say Merry Christmas now.”

Shepard giggled, turning her head up enough to kiss him, the scratch of stubble against her soft skin making her smile. “Merry Christmas, Kaidan. I love you.”

“I love you more.” Their hands intertwined, Kaidan thumbing the rings on her finger with a smile, eyes growing wistful. “You ever think we’d be here? Together, watching cheesy Christmas movies, fighting with fairy lights... setting up toys for  _ our _ son. I...I still have moments where it’s hard to believe I got this lucky...”

“Mhm. It’s a bit surreal, after everything, isn’t it? I love it though.”

She reached up to kiss him once more, before the peaceful moment was shattered as a  _ thud _ echoed from down the hallway, followed by the familiar wail from the far bedroom and a shared grimace of acceptance passed between them.

“Oh, you’ve got to be  _ joking _ …” Kaidan rolled his eyes, before Shepard pushed herself up, stretching as she rose. “He’s been asleep all of two hours!”

“I’ll handle him, don’t worry. You’ve still got lots to do. Get that ship repaired and flying,  _ Santa _ .” A smug smirk tugged at her lips, reflected in the grin on her husband’s face. “I’m sure you can manage that now you’ve  _ destressed _ .”

“Aye aye, ma’am.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sad drabbled - tw for character death

The smell of a hospital had always made her feel sick. She hated it; the cold, harsh taste of antiseptic that lingered on clothes, hair, everything. The smell of illness. The smell of death.

Death. Had they not seen enough of it? Was there not only more to come? How weary she had grow of it, of watching life sniffed out before her very eyes in act after act of violent aggression. How numb she had become to each body she saw on battlefields.

Yet as she stepped into the side room, the view of the Citadel spread before them shielded and the room cloaked in darkness, she realised she was still unprepared for death to greet her once more. Dark hair, broad chest, long muscled legs that she knew so well. Still clad in the blue of his armour, cracked, broken, his name in glittering gold coated in now dry blood. Unmoving. Her gaze froze, breath catching, heart seizing.

“No.” How could she be speaking when she could hardly breathe? “No, no, no…”

As she found his side, someone with her voice was begging was him to open his eyes, to see those deep, dark eyes meet hers just once more. This had to be a dream. Her hands met the cool skin of his face, trembling thumb tracing the rough brush of stubble across his jaw until it met cold, blue lips. Impossibly still. He was never still.

“Please…please” Behind her she could feel the pitying gaze of the people gathered; why was somebody crying? Why was everybody simply watching? Why was nobody helping?

His hair was soft under her fingers and it refused to stand, lacking the crackle of static that had always amused her so. Of course - no heartbeat, no static. But how could he not have a heartbeat? It wasn’t possible. Her rational mind wanted nothing to do with this obscene lie. If he had no heartbeat, he would be dead.

Kaidan Alenko could not be dead. This was all a joke. Any second now, those lips would twist into a smirk, and those dark eyes, that so often gazed at her with such affection and love for her, would be full of amusement. He’d laugh, a deep, rumble of a chuckle that would turn into such that rambunctious, dorky laugh she loved so much. He would lean over, pull her into the warmth of his broad embrace and he would whisper that he loved her.

But it never came. The silence in the room was suffocating. His name was a whisper as it tumbled from her, a litany, a prayer for her to wake up from this nightmare. Her fingers traced his features again before she pressed a kiss to him, an apology pouring from her. The cold shock of his lips against hers was the end of her resolve, fat tears quickly slipping down her cheeks as her knees gave way, and a tortured scream filled the empty silence of the hospital room.

As hands found her shoulders, she realised it was her screaming. Her own pain bouncing off each wall, raw, untamed, heaving sobs leaving her body. She fought the body pulling her from him, eyes focused on his unmoving form.

“No, no… I can’t…”

“Come on.” Garrus’ sad eyes finally met her own, and the pity in them made her want to vomit. “Shepard.”

“He can’t be here on his own.” Her hands grasped at the Turian’s, pleading through the choking grip of her throat. “Please… he hated… please don’t make me leave him behind, on his own.”


	5. The Northern Lights

Shepard found him in the starboard observation deck, hidden in darkness and staring into the expanse of black through the glass. With the lights dimmed, she could make out his figure against the brilliant flashes of colour dancing amongst the stars. There had been something about a storm, Joker had mentioned it, somewhere above -  _fuck, where were they again?_  Her exhausted brain complained at the effort, and Shepard gave up. Space weather was always far more interesting than the Earth equivalent, anyhow. The cabin door closed behind her with a soft hiss as she moved to join him, quietly finding his side. It took a moment, Kaidan’s gaze following the latest flash of vibrant green above the distant planet, before he acknowledged her presence.

“Beautiful, isn’t it? Reminds me of the aurora back home.”

“The Northern Lights?” Shepard folded her arms, nudging his elbow gently. “Just a little flaring and some excitable particules, isn’t it?”

Kaidan scoffed, offended and entertained all at once, and his eyes finally met her own. “We’re talking about the  _aurora borealis_ , Shepard.”

“Only if you’re in the north.” At his raised brow and unamused pout, she continued with a grin. “Are you getting all romantic on me, Alenko? About space wind?”

“They’re special, alright?” The indignation in his voice only gave way as his eyes became distant, a fond, nostalgic smile tugging at edges of his mouth. “I remember seeing them as a kid… once or twice out over English Bay. ‘Course, it’s too bright that close to the city to really see them. They were always way more impressive out at the orchard, when we used to head out there for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Used to light up the whole sky with greens and pinks…” His gaze shifted back to the darkness beyond the glass, fingertips spreading across it as colour bloomed once more, green twisting . “Spent more than one night watching them dancing in the sky above Okanagan Lake. Dad always had a hip flask handy to keep off the chill, usually some 18 year old rye he insisted was best for the job. Burnt like hell as a boy, used to wonder how the old man drank it and enjoyed it… But he loved watching them too. Always said the best view he ever had was coming home to Earth, and seeing the Northern Lights as they entered orbit…”

His voice faltered, and the pain that wrote itself across his face at the mention of his father did not need words. It had been days since his mother had sent the news, yet she doubted he had even begun to process it. Shepard knew the stoicism with which Kaidan carried himself was a carefully constructed facade, determination and professionalism keeping together the image while behind the surface he could barely tread water; the memories of Vancouver burning haunted him in his dreams, peppered with the guilt of leaving behind those who needed him most. She hesitated before her much smaller hand found his, fingers twisting together and offering him a squeeze of the hand in wordless comfort. As his hand locked with hers, the gentle pressure she received in return was everything his eyes said he could not bring himself to say, could not find the words to knit together to speak out loud. The silent pause hung in the air, tangible and heavy, before Kaidan spoke once more.

“I used to watch them and wonder, y’know? Sounds crazy to say it when we’re standing on a ship capable of going faster than light itself, out at the other side of the galaxy but… I don’t know. Staring up at them, it makes you think what other secrets are out there… what other wonderful things are the stars are hiding that you are so unaware of?”

Another gentle squeeze surrounded her hand and Shepard returned it, tilting her head to meet his warm gaze with a coy smile.

“Are we still talking about the northern lights, Major?”

 _There it was._  The rumble of a laugh that seemed to spill from him so easily, the twitch of the corner of his lips in amusement, the twinkle in his eye of their shared, unspoken understanding. Kaidan drew her to him with practiced ease, hands breaking apart only so his arm around curl around her waist, and she settled against his chest, nestled in the warmth of his embrace. Soft lips pressed a kiss to the side of her head and Shepard sighed, fingers playing with the clasp of his uniform.

“I suppose you’ll just have to take me home and show me these magical lights of yours in person… to _convince_  me.”

His breath stilled beneath her, and Shepard knew every implication of the words she had chosen, of just what kind of a promise that offered.  _They’d make it out of this. They’d go home. They’d build a life together. There’d be peace. They’d be together._ She didn’t have to look to know the grin he was wearing. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. A little camping trip, once we’re done with this saving the galaxy business and all.” For the sake of the moment, she managed to silence the looming darkness in her mind, whispering about failure, and instead leant her chin against him, looking up to offer him a gentle smile. “I’ve heard Canada’s got a lot of beautiful sights, after all.”


End file.
